Over the Hills and Far Away
by solo23
Summary: At the end of "The Song Remains the Same," Michael decides to leave Dean in the past in the hopes that he will realize that destiny cannot be changed. Given this opportunity, can Dean save his family or are the angels screwing with him again? Hurt!Protective!Dean, SlightlyCluelessFriend!John, Hunter!Mary, and some Bobby to keep Dean sane
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This story takes place toward the end of Season 5 Episode 13 "The Song Remains the Same." The biggest spoilers are probably for that episode and Season 4 Episode 3 "In the Beginning." There could be spoilers up until 5x13, but probably not after that. Also, Mary and John will probably be really out of character because two episodes isn't enough for me to feel like I really know the character and John before the fire is different from after.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural.

**Lawrence, Kansas, 1978**

"_He's home…safe and sound," Michael said, turning toward Dean, " Your turn. I'll see you soon."_

Dean flinched slightly as Michael raised his hand to Dean's head, intending to zap him back to the future. The corner of Michael's lip turned up as though he'd had an amusing thought.

"What?" Dean grunted in suspicion as Michael's hand continued to hover between them.

"You really think you can change all this? Overcome destiny?" Michael asked patronizingly. He continued staring into Dean's eyes, making Dean distinctly uncomfortable, before titling his head slightly to the left, "Alright. I'll let you stay here. Try to protect your family from its destiny. When you're ready to go home, when you realize how futile this is, call me. Say yes."

Dean's eyes widened as Michael disappeared. He was alone, trapped in '78 with his oblivious parents. Dean hated being alone. He wasn't good at it, never had been. But he might be able to save his parents, save his family, and that was what mattered. First, though, he had to see if Cas was still there. Fighting "destiny" would be a hell of a lot easier with an angel on his side.

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John sat up slowly, looking around the unfamiliar house. Partially destroyed walls and furniture surrounded him like a particularly angry someone had taken a sledgehammer to the place. With the way his head was throbbing, John was half convinced he'd been out drinking at a buddy's house. He hadn't done that in months, though, and he knew his friends' houses. They were adults now; they wouldn't be partying at an abandoned house like teenagers.

A distinctly feminine groan had him looking around frantically. "Mary?" He asked, searching for his wife.

"John?" Mary asked, similarly bewildered. Recognition flashed in her eyes as she surveyed their location and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She knew where they were.

"Where are we? What happened?" John asked warily. He really didn't like not knowing what was going on, especially not if he wife was there. He'd hate to think something bad had happened to them and he couldn't remember enough to help her through it.

Mary hesitated. She opened her mouth to respond a few times, but stopped before she said anything. Finally, she settled for, "My family owned this place. I haven't been here in years. I never thought I'd be back here."

So Mary didn't know why they were here, either. It was weird, though. Why would they be at an old family property? Why was it abandoned? Why didn't Mary ever want to come back? And why did it feel like someone else should be there?

"What happened to this place?" John asked, breaking away from his thoughts as he surveyed the destroyed room again. Mary looked around, still looked baffled as she shrugged helplessly. It felt like the memories were just out of reach, like if he concentrated hard enough he could find the answers. Concentrating was making the throbbing in his head increase, though.

Mary was looking more uncomfortable the longer they stayed in the abandoned house. There would be time to figure everything out later. For now, he had a wife to take care of. John stood up, head spinning as he did so, then helped Mary to her feet. As he led Mary to the door, John noted the faded, reddish brown symbols on some of the doors. Unease coiled in his stomach and John forced himself not to question Mary. She couldn't know anything about the weird symbols Even if she did, they must be the reason she didn't want to come back here.

The Impala sat outside the house, prompting John to search for his keys. That was a hint, probably a good sign. They had driven to the house themselves, so someone hadn't abducted them. They probably hadn't been drugged. So why the hell couldn't they remember what happened?

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Something had happened. She didn't know what, but something very bad had definitely happened. There was no other reason why she would ever take John to the safe house. Whatever it was that had come after them was bad, too, because the last time Mary had been there the house was intact. Not being able to remember was an even worse sign. Not a lot of supernatural creatures had the ability to wipe memories and nothing she had ever encountered would do that and just leave them. A quick glance at her bracelet confirmed that her anti-possession charm was still there, so they hadn't been possessed.

"Are you sure you don't remember anything?" Mary asked nervously, hoping to find some clue about what happened. She wanted a normal life, but she wasn't going to let something screw with her family.

John sighed, somewhat exasperated, but didn't look away from the road as he replied, "I don't know anything. I don't even know where we are. Why didn't you tell me about that place? Is it yours now, or did it go to someone else in your family?"

"That place…" Mary paused, trying to find a way to explain it to John without having to bring up her past, "It just doesn't have a lot of good memories. It's mine, technically. I let some of my dad's cousins and their friends look after it, use it when they need to. They take care of the property taxes and other financial stuff, too, so don't worry about it."

John's jaw clenched. Mary suppressed a sigh, knowing that John was pissed. He had every right to be. She knew he wanted to know more about her family, especially since her parents died, but Mary wouldn't talk about it. She didn't want him to get involved in hunting and that is what her family did. Admitting that she had second cousins was bad enough; he'd probably want to meet them. Any closer relations and he'd definitely want to meet them. Her relatives, like her parents, believed that she should stay involved in the family business. If they met John, they wouldn't be willing to keep the family secret. They would tell him, try to recruit him to join the hunt. Admittedly, his skills as a marine would be great for hunting, but Mary didn't want to hunt anymore. She wanted her family to be normal.

"John," Mary's voice wavered, "Can we just forget about all of this? Tonight? I'm okay, you're okay, and I really don't want anything to do with that place."

John took a deep breath, caught between giving in to Mary's uncharacteristic plea and his need for answers. Releasing the breath, he nodded. For Mary, he would do anything. Even if it went against his instincts.

Mary smiled as she leaned against the window watching the Kansas landscape fly by. Her smile widened as she rested her hand on her stomach and imagined a normal future with her wonderful husband and the baby growing within her. The future was bright and she wouldn't let anyone or anything stand in the way of it.

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**Lawrence, Kansas, January 1, 1979 **

"Happy New Year!" Mary exclaimed, pulling John in for a kiss as the clock struck midnight. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and joy. Everything was perfect. They had moved into the new house a few days ago and set up the nursery. Mary had found an angel statue for twenty-five cents and, although it was a bit cheesy, John had gone along with it.

John was beaming as they broke their kiss. Impending fatherhood suited him. He had actually let the whole incident with showing up at some random, abandoned family property go without digging for more information. Mary still wasn't sure what had happened that night, but since then there hadn't been any supernatural occurrences within one hundred miles. Maybe the universe had gotten on board with her normal life after all.

Of course, Mary had enough experience with supernatural crap to know that that probably wasn't the case. She dug into the incident from eight months ago, but the only possible connection was the death of John's boss. Someone, or something, had murdered him that night. The cars in the garage were smashed, windshields broken. Coincidences didn't happen, so it had to be connected somehow. Unfortunately, John's boss had probably been used as bait to lure them over to the garage. Beyond that, Mary couldn't even begin to get a read on what happened. The most likely explanation was a demon, but that wasn't specific enough. The classic omens, like electrical storms, were also missing.

John's hand settled over Mary's large stomach, breaking her out of her thoughts. She smiled as he pulled her in against his chest, whispering in her ear, "This year is going to be great. Don't worry so much, you're going to be an amazing mom."

A faint blush crept into Mary's cheeks as she realized John thought she had been worrying about her parenting abilities again. He really wasn't far off in guessing what was troubling Mary. Over the last few months, she had been worried about raising her kid, afraid that she wouldn't be a good mom or that she would inadvertently twist her child into a hunter. It had to be the pregnancy hormones making her insecure. She knew she would never allow her child to be raised as a hunter, would never let John find out about the screwed up supernatural world.

_But the Yellow Eyed Demon is still out there_, Mary thought reluctantly. She had agreed to let him into her house in ten years, but that was still a little over four years away. He shouldn't be a problem now. The now familiar itch of a memory just out of reach manifested as she thought about the demon. There had been someone else there, someone with a warning about the demon…

"Are you okay?" A concerned voice pulled her from her thoughts again. John's eyebrows were furrowed as he gripped her shoulders, "Tired? We shouldn't have stayed up so late."

"I'm fine," Mary reassured him, "but it is getting late. We should get some sleep. Besides, you have to work in the morning."

John groaned jokingly, "It's New Year's Day! Should be a damn holiday…"

Mary rolled her eyes as she shook her head, causing her blond curls to bounce lightly, "Honey, you're co-owner of the garage. You make your own schedule. If you wanted New Year's Day off, you shouldn't have told everyone you'd be open."

John grinned as he followed Mary upstairs, acknowledging his defeat. Mary had told him to keep the garage closed for New Year's, or at least have Mike work instead. John had stubbornly argued that he wanted to take some time off when their son was born so working one holiday was a small price to pay. They both paused as they passed the nursery, thrilled that in just a few weeks their son, Dean, would be sleeping in there. John massaged Mary's shoulders, causing her to let out a contented moan as she leaned her head back. He grinned, "Shoulder rub before bed?"

Mary just giggled as she pulled him into their bedroom. For now, everything was perfect.

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An obnoxious buzzing invaded John's dream. What the hell was that noise, anyway? World's most annoying truck backing out of the driveway? As it continued, John began the journey back to consciousness. It was the damned alarm clock, which meant it was already seven and John had to get up. It was tempting to just turn the stupid thing off and go back to sleep, though. The bed was warm and inviting and Mary was curled up next to him.

"Turn it off," Mary mumbled, still mostly asleep. Chagrined, John turned off the alarm and pulled himself away from his wife.

A glance at the clock told John that he had actually hit the snooze button a few times and, if he didn't get in the shower now, he would be late to open the garage. As it was, he was going to have to skip breakfast. He had a car waiting that he'd promised he'd get done by noon. Reluctantly, John pried himself away from Mary's side and dragged himself out of bed.

An impressive thirty minutes later, John pulled into the garage, intent on finishing the Pinto before noon. Personally, John thought the owner would be better off selling the thing instead of fixing it, but he'd always thought Pintos were crap.

The bell at the front desk rang. John slid out from under the Pinto and headed up to the front. Time had gone faster than he thought. It was already ten. A familiar man was waiting at the front. He was tall, a little over six feet. His hair was short and dark blonde. His eyes were green, framed by long lashes, and his face was symmetrical. He was wearing a leather jacket and torn, baggy jeans. John knew he had met this guy, but he couldn't place him.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" John asked, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. The man smiled distantly, lost in thought. When he didn't reply, John prompted, "Sir? Is there something wrong with your car?"

"No, sorry," the man replied, voice rough with disuse, "I'm actually here to see if you're hiring. I need a job and, I don't have any certification or anything, but I'm really good with cars. My dad taught me everything he knew."

John smiled. He had a good feeling about this guy, even if he couldn't remember how he knew him. "Well, why don't you do tell me what's wrong with this car and how you'd fix it."

"For starters, it's a Pinto," the man replied dryly. Off to a good start, then. John could never hire someone who thought a Pinto was actually a good car. The man looked over the car for a few minutes, then gave John exactly the answer he was looking for. John grinned as the man gave his analysis, and then told him, "As long as my partner has no objections, you're hired. You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?"

The man extended his hand while apologizing, "Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. Dean Van Halen. I've visited Lawrence before, but it's been a while."

"Right!" John exclaimed, pleased to remember meeting this man. Last time, he'd gotten off to a bad start by showing up at the café drunk from the night before and asking, frankly, bizarre questions. He did direct John to the Impala, though. "How have you been, Dean? You were right about that Impala—she drives like a dream."

John fell into comfortable conversation with Dean as they fixed the Pinto to the best it could get. Another customer rolled into the garage as they were finishing the Pinto around eleven. It was a '64 Mustang, definitely better than the Pinto.

"So Dean, do you have any plans for dinner?" John asked, knowing Mary would kill him for inviting a guest to a holiday dinner without giving her fair warning. For some reason, though, Dean felt like he belonged with them.

Dean smiled, "I'm in."

Yeah, Mary was going to kill him. He definitely needed to buy some chocolates or flowers on the way home.

**TBC**

Next time on Over the Hills and Far Away: Find out what happens when Dean meets Mary (again) and what has he been up to since he got stuck in 1978? Will he be able to save his family?

Please review


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thanks for reviewing, alerting, and favoriting! I appreciate it Enjoy the story!

**Lawrence, Kansas, January 1, 1979**

The Mustang hadn't taken long, it only needed an oil change and a tune up. The owner, Jack, was driving back to Buffalo and wanted to make sure he and his family wouldn't get stranded. Dean took care of the car with practiced ease while John ran down the street to buy some burgers from the diner. He'd never felt so in sync with anyone before. They even had the same order—bacon cheeseburger with extra onions. And pie, can't forget the pie.

When John had returned with lunch, Dean was wiping his hands off on an old towel and joking around with the customer, Jack. The guy seemed lighter, somehow, than when he'd shown up at the garage this morning. His voice wasn't as rough, either. It was still deep and gruff, but different. John had a feeling the guy had been through something. He'd get it out of Dean eventually.

Jack paid and took his keys, commenting that next time he was in town they'd better join him for a couple of beers. Dean smiled and nodded his agreement as Jack got into his car and headed out.

"Having fun?" John asked as he grabbed a couple sodas from the fridge in the break room. He passed one over to Dean before dividing the burgers, fries, and slices of pie with a quick, "Don't tell Mary."

Dean laughed as he popped open his soda, "Yeah, it's been a while since I've gotten to work on a car. And don't worry—keep bringing me pie and I'll keep any secret you want."

John grinned as Dean attacked his burger as though he hadn't seen food in weeks. Eating his own burger, albeit at a slower pace, he asked, "So what've you been up to since you talked me into the Impala?"

Something dark flashed through Dean's eyes as he replied, "Oh, not much. Mostly been working odd jobs, driving around the country. Nothing exciting."

Despite the casual tone, John could see the weariness in Dean's eyes. Weariness, loneliness, and a hell of a lot of pain. He looked a lot like John did when he was dwelling on Vietnam.

"How 'bout you? How's the married life?" Dean asked, mask back in place.

John knew better than to push, especially with a guy he'd only known for a few hours. "It's great! Mary is the best. Her parents died right after I proposed so we had a longer engagement than I thought, but she's amazing. And she's pregnant! I'm going to be a dad! And my partner, Mike, and I have had this place for about eight months now."

"Congratulations, man! I'd be happy to work anytime you need when the baby's here. You know, as long as Mike's okay with me working here," Yeah, he definitely liked this guy. Mike would, too.

John chatted with his newest employee until they finished lunch and the Pinto owner arrived. The easy camaraderie was appreciated, especially since John hadn't felt like he really fit in with anyone except Mary since he got back from overseas. They had exchanged a look of mutual dislike for the Pinto and its somewhat prissy owner as the car took off down the street.

Glancing at his watch, John realized it was nearly three. Turning to his new friend, he asked, "Ready to close up? I'll give you my address, I have to grab something on my way home."

"Sounds good," Dean nodded, accepting the scrap of paper with John's address and phone number "in case you get lost," John explained. John locked the garage as he left and watched as Dean wandered over to his black '70 Dodge Charger. John grinned. The guy definitely had his taste in cars.

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The ham and black-eyed peas were done and the apple pie in the oven filled the house with a delicious aroma. Mary set the table using the real silverware and china she inherited from her parents. She loved being married to John, living a normal life. The silverware, made of actual silver, was only to be used for food. It wasn't a precaution in case something attacked. It was wonderful.

"Hey, honey," John swept her into a kiss as he came in. He presented a floral centerpiece and a box of chocolates. Suspicion swept over Mary as she asked lightly, "What did you do?"

John grinned pleadingly, "I invited my newest employee to dinner. He's a good guy and he said he'd cover for me when the baby comes. I get the feeling he doesn't have any family."

Mary sighed, knowing that her perfect family holiday wasn't going to be exactly how she pictured. She hadn't seen John so excited to invite someone over before, though, and really couldn't find a good reason to say no. They had more than enough food and if the guy really had no family, it would be horrible to turn him away.

In lieu of a verbal response, Mary simply grabbed another place setting and added it to the table. "Thanks honey!" John beamed and pulled her in for another kiss. Mary laughed and swatted him with a towel as she retuned to the kitchen to check on the pie.

As she pulled the pie out, Mary heard a knock on the door. Friendly conversation was struck as John invited the visitor, presumably their guest, in and led him to the kitchen. Mary set the pie on the cooling rack and turned to greet their guest.

Shock coursed through her, followed closely by dismay. She recognized him, the hunter who had shown up just before her parents were killed. If she remembered correctly, they were killed by the demon this hunter had been after, had dragged her family into hunting.

Fighting to smile rather than slap the hunter, she greeted, "Hi. I'm Mary."

The hunter's eyes dimmed and his smile faded as he sensed her anger and overwhelming desire for him to leave. Steeling himself, the hunter replied, "Hi Mary, nice to meet you. I'm Dean."

Mary smiled tightly, trying to tolerate the hunter's presence until she could get a moment to ask him what the hell he was doing here and what he wanted with her husband. "Dinner's ready," she announced.

John looked at her oddly, probably wondering how she could dislike the hunter after just meeting him. They took their places at the table and ate in tense silence. John made occasional attempts to break the tension and the hunter followed along politely, but Mary could barely stand to be in the same room as that man. He had led the demon to them, gotten her parents killed. If it weren't for that hunter, she never would have had to make a deal with that demon.

The hunter ate quickly and spoke as little as possible, trying to make himself invisible. He must be feeling awkward, but Mary just wanted him gone. She couldn't help the rising anger toward John for daring to invite this man into their home. She knew it was irrational, probably caused by her hormones being out of whack, but she couldn't deal with this hunter being in her home, contaminating her normal life.

"I'll grab the pie," Mary announced tersely, noting that the men had consumed a few helpings of dinner already. She could feel John's eyes burning into her back and heard him dismiss himself to help her.

"What's wrong, Mary?" He asked, concerned and serious as they entered the kitchen, "Do you know him from somewhere? Did he do something to you?"

Mary sighed, unable to explain her dislike for the hunter without sounding insane. "He was a friend of my parents. I only met him once, right before they died, and he just brings back bad memories."

John pulled her into a hug, his warmth enveloping her as he apologized. As they separated, John added, "I know it's a lot to ask, honey, but could you give him a chance? He seems like a good guy and I'd hate to have to fire him so soon."

Mary laughed and agreed. The hunter seemed to make John happy and he could really use more friends. As long as he wasn't here to pull them into a hunt, she supposed she could give him a chance. One chance. No more. If he blew it, she wouldn't give him another.

Besides, now that she thought about it, she had liked the hunter up until her parents died and he disappeared. He didn't treat her like a kid and he had respected her decision to pursue a normal life, to marry John. He also came off as a little crazy, talking about things that hadn't happened yet, warning her not to go into the nursery sometime in November of 1983.

Bringing the pie into the dining room, Mary almost burst into laughter. The hunter, Dean, was practically bouncing with excitement. He may also be drooling. John wasn't much better. He had taken the dishes into the kitchen and replaced them with small desert plates. Mary put a slice of pie on each plate before setting the pan down on the table.

In contrast to how he had inhaled dinner, the hunter ate the pie slowly, savoring each bite. He smiled genuinely and looked Mary in the eye, "Thank you, this is delicious. I really appreciate you letting me stay."

Mary nodded in acknowledgement as John responded enthusiastically, "I'm glad you could come!"

The hunter left shortly after helping John with the dishes. Mary had tried to trade places with John so she could talk to the hunter in private, find out what was happening, but the men insisted that since she cooked, they would clean up. Disappointed that she wouldn't get answers, Mary sat on the couch and watched TV until the John joined her and the hunter left.

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Dean opened a can of beer as he flopped on the couch in his small, crappy apartment. Wallpaper dangled from corners as it peeled off the wall and unidentifiable stains marred the carpet. The window remained intact, but a permanent haze had settled over it, eliminating its true purpose of providing a few outside. An old, chipped coffee table sat between the worn, faux leather couch and the TV set that received three fuzzy channels. A well-used mattress rested in the corner near the closet, hidden from the front door. Under one of the flat pillows, a sharp knife rested. The kitchen contained a grungy sink and an ancient refrigerator. A small stove sat beside the counter, but remained unused because it tended to leak copious amounts of gas. Across from the kitchen, the bathroom door remained open, revealing the compact space that barely contained a toilet, sink, and corner shower.

Despite its many faults, the little old apartment was infinitely better than the backseat of his Charger or the old Campbell safe house. Being stuck in the past was a lot harder than Dean had anticipated. Initially he thought his biggest concerns would be to find Cas and get out, or to protect his family. The little things tripped him up.

When he had finally walked back to town, the room where he'd left Cas was empty. Michael sent the angel back to the future. Dean stayed in the room for the rest of the time he'd paid through. He could barely remember those first few days. He'd probably been in shock.

It had taken the first month to get over the feelings of loneliness, emptiness, and desperation. He had used all of his cash to get the room for Cas when they first arrived. Sammy had had money, but he was gone. Dean was alone. The credit cards wouldn't link to any accounts yet, so they were no good. In short, Dean was a homeless, penniless ghost.

In his time, he managed to get by through hustling and credit card scams. He'd always had the money to buy into a game, though. Credit card scams were more difficult in the past, as the process was more personal. Plus, it took time to get a response to the application. It also took an address, or a P.O. Box. Making fake ID's also presented a challenge: he knew how they'd look in the future, but he had never seen a 1979 driver's license, passport, police badge, hell, even a student ID. He'd also lost his system of contacts.

Figuring he could solve two major problems at once, Dean had reverted to his old habit from running out of money when a hunt went longer than his dad expected. He picked people's pockets. He ended up with enough money to buy into a game of pool. With his winnings from hustling, he'd managed to put together a convincing driver's license, although it was much more difficult than usual. He was used to the benefit of a computer and photoshop.

Once he had a little money and an ID, he needed to figure out what he was going to do. Saving his family was important, of course, but without an immediate threat he wasn't sure he could intrude upon their happiness, their normalcy. Eventually, he decided not to contact them, to let them live their lives as normal people.

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**Lawrence, Kansas, May 1978**

Stuffing his winnings into his wallet, Dean left the second bar of the night. He had managed to win over two hundred dollars so far. It wasn't as impressive a haul as he'd gotten in his past, the future, whatever, but people in the 70's had lower incomes and weren't willing to part with as much money at once. He had enough for another few nights at the motel, but he didn't have much left over. Still, it was the first time in a few days he wouldn't have to choose between sleeping indoors and eating.

Even when his dad hadn't left enough money Dean hadn't been this hungry, hadn't gone this long without eating. He had chosen shelter the last five nights and he hadn't had the money for any food. The last time he had eaten was two days ago, when he'd had the last of the food he bought the day he chose to sleep on a park bench so he could eat. The Campbell safe house was too far to walk to daily and it didn't have any food.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach unpleasantly, a constant companion the last few days. He was light headed and he'd had tighten his belt to the last hole to keep his jeans up. Dean had only been trapped in the past for a few weeks, but he had already lost a lot of weight, fifteen pounds or so if he guessed right. His usually attractive features were beginning to look gaunt and hollowed.

If he really wanted to save his family, he'd have to save himself first. He needed to get a job. With virtually no useful work skills or education, and the only garage in town co-owned by his dad (who was now younger than him, talk about messed up), he would have to find some minimum wage, unskilled job. Eh, he spent most of his time in bars anyway, Dean figured as he spotted the Now Hiring sign in the window of his favorite bar.

"Hi, I'm Dean Van Halen. Saw your sign in the window, are you still hiring?" Dean asked, throwing a flirtatious smile at the woman behind the counter as he walked in.

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**Lawrence, Kansas, January 1, 1979**

Even though he understood her reaction, it hurt that his mom opposed his presence at the New Year's dinner. Dean missed her so much and it had been torture staying away from his parents for the past eight months. In November, he finally settled on his plan. He couldn't go through telling them who he was again, especially not when they weren't under an imminent supernatural threat. He could, however, gain their trust so eventually, maybe, they would let him babysit his mini-self and Sammy. Then, he'd just have to convince them to go out of town on November 2, 1983. He could watch his mini-me and brother and kill the demon when it came. It had to work.

Mom—Mary—wasn't really cooperating with the plan, though. Despite the frosty reaction when he and Sam had knocked on her door last time, he thought it would be better. He'd half-hoped she would have forgotten him completely, even though it seemed unlikely when Dad had remembered him and he didn't think he'd left that much of an impression. Of course she remembered. Why would he expect anything else?

He still couldn't decide if his motives in the plan were entirely pure. By November, it had been three months since he had talked to anyone but the supernatural fuglies he was killing. Frankly, he had been lonely and starting to scare himself. Seeing his parents go about their lives without being able to talk to them was a torture worse than anything he'd gone through in hell. Or at least almost as bad as hell. Either way, he couldn't do it anymore.

With a sigh, Dean pulled before him the newspaper clippings he'd gathered. It was the full moon and three people had been killed, hearts ripped out, the night before. The werewolf was in Kansas City. It made him think about Madison, about Sammy, hell, his car and his weapons.

The Charger worked and, while it wasn't the Impala, it wasn't a friggin Pinto. He had rebuilt a moderate weapons stash. It wasn't as extensive as his old one, and his first aid kit was definitely lacking, but he hadn't had a lot of time or money to build it up.

Glancing at the clock, Dean figured it was time to head out. He grabbed his Colt 1911 and loaded it with silver bullets. Dean opened the door to his Charger and grinned. He'd always enjoyed a good werewolf hunt.

**TBC**

**AN: **I know Mary seemed mean, but it was based on her reaction in The Song Remains the Same.

Next time: Dean's hunt, work, Mary and Dean talk, and more about what Dean has been up to since getting stranded

Please review (and/or favorite and follow)! Thanks for reading!


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